Finnick and Annie
by Caithrine Glidewell
Summary: Based on the MainstayPro mini series. Filling in the time between episodes, starting after episode 4, until after episode 6. Rated T for future violence. COMPLETE
1. I'm not special

Based off of the MainstayPro Finnick and Annie Web Series. Takes place shortly after Episode 4: You've Changed a few weeks before the reaping, and will go until after Episode 6.

The Capitol woman ran her hands over my shoulders again as I attempted to button my shirt, sliding the shoulders just out of place so I had to shrug them back up.

"Couldn't you stay just a little longer?" She chirped in that ever more annoying Capitol accent.

I turned to look at her over my shoulder and gave her my fake 'charming Finnick' smile, my 'Capitol Finnick' smile, "I'm sorry. I really do have to go. Fish don't hunt themselves," I joked. I didn't have to work today. I just wanted to get out of here. I needed to be at the beach…

She laughed in a high pitched annoying ring, "Of course not." I looked her over as her body shook with laughter. All the Capitol women just started to looks the same, although they were _drastically_ different. I guess that's what the similarity was. The unnatural skin tones, the vibrant hair colors, the all too straight teeth. I couldn't imagine it being attractive anywhere but the Capitol.

I stood and bowed in front of her, kissing her hand, "I bid you adieu." With another Capitol Smile and a wink, I left the room.

This hallway, this train, had become all too familiar to me of late. It made my skin crawl. And that room, so many woman had passed through there by now it would make any man sick, but it was worst of all when I spent my time there alone, traveling to the Capitol for Games and Victors Tours. It had become a novelty to the Capitol women. _This is where the Famous Finnick Odair made his journey to becoming the youngest Victor in the history of the Games._

Although I had to admit I was grateful that it kept them from my house.

I got off the train and began jogging for the beach. I checked the watch on my wrist. I should have met Annie an hour and a half ago. That annoying woman simply wouldn't let me go. I picked up my pace.

When I got to the beach, panting, Annie stood near the shore, arms crossed, a smile teasing at her lips. She had been much less upset since the other day, especially when she knew where I was, but there was a part of it that would never sit right between us.

I bend over, putting my hands on my knees to catch my breath and she laughs.

"So what was she like this time?" Annie asks, in a voice attempting lightness as I sit down in the sand.

"Aweful," I tell her, reaching out to grab her hand as she comes to sit next to me.

"Purple again?" She laughs.

"Turquoise," I chuckle back. I really had no idea where these Capitol people came up with these things.

"You were there for a long time," She was still trying to stay light, like she wasn't upset with me, but I could hear the doubt in her voice.

"I think I slept through part of it," I say, trying to lighten her mood again. She cracks a smile, but continues to look down, playing with my hand in hers. "You know, Annie, we don't have to talk about this." I remind her, stroking her hair back with my free hand. She doesn't say anything. I know this is hard for her. I know I can't give her everything I want to. I can't be the best friend, or the perfect boyfriend. Not as long as the Capitol controls me. I sigh. "I wanted you to be my first," She looks up at me, her eyes hold surprise, "and my last." I guess we'd never really talked about it. We never really decided to be dating. One day we were best friends, the next I was kissing her goodbye on the beach before I left for an interview in the Capitol.

"Why Finn?" She asks, a little crease forming between her eyebrows.

I'm shocked, and my hand tenses in hers, "How could you ask that?"

She looks down again, "I'm not special, Finn. I'm not like those girls in the Capitol, with money, and wit, and-"

"And I don't want that," I tell her forcefully, squeezing her hand, trying to get her to look at me.

"I'm just a little merchant girl from District 4. What makes me so special?"

I grab her chin with the tips of my fingers, to turn her towards me. When her eyes lock on mine I smile, "Tying a bunch of fancy knots practically makes you a capitol citizen, remember?"

She smiles, and I see it in her eyes. I kiss her gently, and wrap my arms around her, holding her safe against my side as the sun sets over the water.


	2. My Apologies

I heard the phone ringing downstairs, but I didn't want to answer it. I knew the words that would come out of Annie's mouth before I heard them.

"Finnick, it's for you!" I jogged down the stairs to see her holding the phone in her hand, arms crossed.

I kissed her on the forehead as I took the phone from her and mouthed 'I'm sorry' as I held it up to my ear, but she left the house anyway. I didn't blame her for not wanting to hear this conversation.

"Hello?" I spoke up as I turned my attention to the call.

"Mr. Odair," one of the Capitol officials replied in an upbeat tone, "President Snow has requested your company at a Party this weekend. He says there are some people he would like you too meet." As in more women he would have pay to sleep with me.

I looked at the screen door to the house where Annie had just exited. I thought of her. She would know the news I would bring on the beach before I'd said a thing. She would attempt to act like it was fine, like there was nothing anyone could do about it.

'_Come back to me_,' she would say, and kiss me on the cheek. And tonight I would feel a pang in my chest as I awaited sleeplessly to board the train in the morning.

But there was something I could do about it. I'm the Famous Finnick Odair. The Capitol needs me. It was one weekend. What could they do if I said no?

"My apologies, but I won't be able to come out this weekend," I told the official on the other end of the line.

"Are you sure about that Mr. Odair?"

"Yes sir. I have other arrangements," I told him, standing tall instead of slumping against the wall like I normally did. I felt like I had power. The capitol did not own me.

"Of course, Mr. Odair. We can't force you to do anything," I could hear the fake Capitol smile in his voice, "Your welcome to do as you please. We will see you in a couple weeks for the Games."

"Of course sir. Again, my apologies to the President."

"Good afternoon, Mr. Odair." The line dropped and I put the phone back on the wall.

I closed my eyes for a moment, reveling in this feeling. I felt free for the first time since I had entered the Games. I ran out the door towards the beach. When I got there, I slid down next to Annie in the sand and kissed her before she could get a word out. I cupped her cheek in my palm and held her lips against mine, kissing her more passionately than maybe I ever have.

When we both ran out of breath, I rested my forehead against hers.

"You're not going to the Capitol?" she asks in a whisper, eyes closed, smiling.

I shake my head against hers, "No, Annie. This weekend is ours."


	3. Annie Cresta

I open my eyes slowly as the sunlight filters in through a window. Through my lashes I see her next to me. Slight figure, soft brown hair. Annie. My Annie. She's the first woman I've woken up to who made me feel happy, who made me feel that, just by waking up next to her; there couldn't be a better day in my life. Who didn't make me feel hollow.

I pull the sheets over her slight bare figure even though the air is warm. She still seems so innocent. She's still the little girl I saved all those years ago. Sweet and kind. She stirs under the feel of the cloth moving on her skin and looks over her shoulder at me, opening her eyes just enough to peek through her lashes.

She smiles and rolls over so she's facing me, hugging the sheets like a child holds their blanket.

"I love you, Finn." She whispers, blinking against the morning light.

I smile softly in return, stroking her cheek, "A simple good morning would have sufficed, but I like the sound of that." I laugh lightly on my breath and lean in to kiss her.

Our lips part and I rest my forehead against hers. I can tell by the way her eyes close like she's looking down that something's darkened in her mind. "What is it, Annie?"

"Do you know what today is, Finn?" He voice is the whisper of a broken child. Exactly the same as the first time she'd asked that question, the year we turned 12, and every year since.

"I know," I tell her, swallowing the tight knot in my throat and looking over her head. This feeling had only gotten worse since I had returned from the Hunger Games. My greatest fear was never that I should get reaped.

I put my palm on her cheek, pushing her hair away, and look down at her, meeting her lids, "Annie, look at me," she opens them slowly, "This is it, Annie. This is your last year. We get through this one last day, and you're free. You hear me?"

"Finnick, it's not that easy." She shakes her head.

"Think about it, Annie. You've never taken any tesserae, you have the least possible amount of slips that an 18 year old can. 7 slips of paper. That's it. We get through today, and you're free," Her eyes lock on mine, searching. "Besides, you have an insurance policy. I'm the famous Finnick Odair, remember?" I can tell she wants to believe, but she knows as well as I do, that I can't always protect her.

I shrug on my shirt as I jog down the stairs to see Celia, the District 4 escort, standing outside the screen door.

"Come on Finnick. We're going to be late," She trills in a shrill voice I've become well familiar with in the last four years.

Annie comes down the stairs behind me, and turns to me, buttoning the last two buttons on my shirt before patting down my collar.

I smile at her and kiss her softly on the forehead, her hands still resting on my chest.

"Mr. Odair. We don't have all day," Celia trills again.

"I'll be there," I snap brusquely. With a huff she clicks away from the doorway in her Capitol heels until the sound disappears into the sand.

I look down to meet Annie's eyes, "I'll see you there," I tell her, "I'll be watching you the whole time."

"You'll say goodbye before you board the train?" She asks, genuine childlike curiosity in her eyes, like she doubts I will. Always so innocent…

"I promise," I give her a gentle slow kiss before taking her hand and heading for the door. Outside we have to part, going different directions. Me so I can go through the back of the Justice building to the stage, and her to join the other potential tributes for the last time. After today, the Capitol would no long own us.

I yawn in boredom at the Mayor's speech as I lounge in the folding chair next to Mags, my co-mentor. In 64 years, I was one of three victors she'd produced, and at this point she barely had anything to do with it.

The Mayor's never ending drawl on the history of Panem finally came to a close and Celia stepped up to the podium. She introduced Mags and then me, and I stood, a hand raised in the air to the crowd as they cheered when my name was announced. This would be the only time anyone would cheer today. I was loved and famed, but it was no small fortune I paid for it.

I sat back down and with her shrill voice Celia announced, "Ladies first!" as she twilled her fingers. I wasn't tense as her fingers reached into the glass bowl. Like I'd said this morning, Annie had never taken any tesserae. 7 slips of paper. 7 in thousands. After today, we were free.

I watch with general interest as her fingers select a slip of paper, wondering if it will be one of the kids I know. Wondering if it will be someone I can make a victor out of.

But then the slip unfolds and I see a hint of a black printed AN on the white paper.

My heart stops.

"Annie Cresta!" Celia's voice chimes. My eyes fall on Annie in the crowd. Her face is blank. I'm not breathing. I know I'm not breathing, but I can't open my mouth to let air into my lungs.

Someone in the crowd nudges her and I want to hit them for rushing her to her death. She breaks from the crowd and there is a Peacekeeper on either side of her. She looks at the sand as she makes her way to the stage.

I want to stand. I want to yell, demand they draw again, but I don't dare. I won't make this worse for her. I can still help her, but there is only one way out.

She stands on the stage only a few feet from me. I could lean over and touch the back of her skirt if I wanted, but I can't move. I don't hear the boy's name who is called.

The next thing I realize the people are clearing out of the square. Annie and the tribute have been taken into the Justice building by peace keepers.

I break.

I stand and growl, lashing out. I knee over one of the podiums and the glass ball atop it shatters as it hits the stage. Slips of paper flutter to the ground below.

"No!" I yell at the top of my lungs, dragging it out, gripping my hair, trying to make this all into a dream, a nightmare, and I'll wake up back next to Annie stroking my hair.

Celia comes up to me, a sympathetic look in her eyes and for a moment I think she's going to apologize for something, but then she leans in until her lips are next to my ear and whispers, "You don't just say no to the Capitol, boy."


	4. I love you

I stand there for less than a minute, frozen as the reality of what's just happens sinks in, and then I burst. Fury pumping hot in my veins, I slam through the doors of the justice building.

I looks to the receptionist, intending to walk straight past her and through the double doors ahead of me, "What room is she in?"

"I'm sorry sir. You can't see her now," she says.

I stop and turn towards her. I stare at her as if she can't be serious before I stalk forward and slam my fists on the desk. The receptionist looks up at me, fear stricken in her eyes. "She is _my_ tribute. I'll see her now."

"Last door on your left," her voice shakes. I don't care. I push off the desk and blow through the double doors, eyes trained on the one to Annie's waiting room.

"Hey," a peacekeeper yells from behind me. I ignore him, but he grabs my arm. "Hey, you can't go in there!"

"Get off me!" I growl, and throw his hand off, slamming through the door to Annie's room.

As soon as I see her, all the anger drains out of me. She looks more innocent than ever, slouching in that chair made of Capitol leather. Annie's not made to be in a lavish setting like this, with these harsh lights on her. She's meant to be in the light of the late sun as it reflects, golden, off the soft sand.

"I guess the odds just weren't in my favor this year," she says quietly. Like she's _accepted_ it.

"This has nothing to do with the odds, Annie," I shake my head, "_God_. How could I have been so stupid?" I'd said it to her before, and I would say it to myself a hundred time over now, until it sunk it. _You can't just say no to the Capitol._

"This isn't your fault. It's not like you pulled my name out of that bowl," I can see the tears welling in her eyes as she stands and my throat gets tight.

"I might as well have Annie," I drop to my knees in front of her, fighting the tears. Keeping them trapped in my throat, not allowing them to my eyes. I put my hand on her waist, just needing to feel her, to know that for now, she's still real. I let my had fall against her stomach and whisper, "What have I done?" I've destroyed her. I've taken her life.

Her hand is in my hair, caressing it softly, "What are you talking about? The Capitol did this."

She's trying not to blame me. She never blames me, even now when I've destroyed everything. Why can't she _see_?

"Because of me. This is all because of me," I can hear it in my voice, the edge of sobs. I can never pay for what I've done.

Annie's hand leaves my hair, and she's backing away. I look up to see the look of disbelief in her eyes. Maybe she does blame me now. She sinks into the Capitol chair and I know I have to explain, before she thinks of something worse.

"The last time they called me to go to the Capitol, I refused. So that I could stay here with you," I wish that I could say that it had been worth it. That waking up next to her instead of some unnatural colored lady for the last week had been worth it, but it wasn't worth her life.

"But why?"

"Because I wanted to," _because I'm stupid_, "Because I l…let it go to my head, Annie. The fame, popularity, everything. I thought I had negotiating power with them. That they would dare go after the _Famous Finnick Odair._" Because in the end I believed there was a day when the Capitol couldn't own me.

"What did they say?" She asks, leaning towards me.

_What does it matter?_ I think, _None of it matters now_. "They said it was fine. They said _of course_, we couldn't force you to do anything. That you were _welcome_ to do as you pleased. And the sick this is… is that I believed them. I believed that I was an exception… to their rules. But the Capitol doesn't give exceptions," And that day would never come. I knew that now. The Capitol would always own me. "And now because of me… you have to pay for my arrogance." Now the Capitol would own Annie too. I hold back the sob that threatens to rise in my chest and let my had fall into Annie's lap, "I'm so sorry, Annie."

Her hand is in my hair again, choosing and stroking the tendrils at the base of my skull. It feels familiar. For a moment, with my eyes closed like this, I can dream we're back at home.

"You must really care about me, Finn," she says softly, absently.

I straighten immediately. Her words cut deep. I feel like I'm back in the games, my chest aching in the place where the blade of a sharp career's knife had found purchase, "How can you say that? – After all that I've done?"

"Because the Capitol wouldn't have bothered with me otherwise," I look into her eyes. She's not innocent now. She's smart. Smart enough to know just how much danger I've gotten us in. I stroke her hair back and scoff. How did I get so lucky? And yet so tragic at the same time. I pull her in and kiss her softly, my lips lingering for just an extra moment to memorize the feel of her soft ones on mine. When I pull away, I look her in the eyes with all the power I can muster, "I promise you that I will do everything… everything in my power to bring you back to me," I have to say it now. Even if the Capitol is listening. I may not get another chance. "I love you."

"I love you too, Finn."

I look at her for a second before I rest my head against hers, just taking in these moments alone.

Then I hear the clank of the door.

"You have to leave now, sir," I recognize the voice of the head Peacekeeper, and then there are rough hands on each of my arms, pulling me away from her.

"I'll see you on the train, Annie," I call back as the door slams shut between us.

I shake off the Peace keepers and with an indignant glare, I stalk out of the hallway, and out of the Justice Building.


	5. Career District

I wake up to the lush sheets and rattle of the train against the tracks. I will arrive in the Capitol today. No. I am going for the Games. _We_ will arrive in the capitol today. Me, Mags, Celia, and two Tributes. No, Annie and one Tribute.

I can't afford to think like that. I can't keep Annie in my head as a little girl. I have to treat her like a tribute. I have to make sure she can survive. I have to train her to _win_.

I get up and move around the room, slipping into the shower, dressing, until Celia knocks on my door for breakfast.

I slide into my usual chair at the dining table, but when I look up, I have to swallow the lump that forms in my throat. After just the glimpse of Annie, my eyes fall back to my plate on the table. I have to start thinking like a mentor now. When look back up, Annie will be my tribute.

I unfold my napkin and take a bite of my eggs before looking up again. Annie isn't looking at me. She is observing her fellow tribute. A 16 year old boy who I didn't know well. He was of average build, light brown hair with the trademark blond sun-streak highlights of District 4. Granted he wasn't a merchant boy, I might have been able to make something out of him, but my choice of tributes had been made.

As I turned my attention back to Annie I noticed something in her face; something I had never seen before. Her expression was… analytical. Though still sweet and smiling, there was a note of intelligence behind it. She was picking him apart just as I had, sizing up her competition. She had fallen into the mindset of a tribute. It amazed me to see the change in her. How could Annie have even this spark only I could notice anywhere inside her? My Annie, innocent Annie.

"Finnick," the boy calls my name, turning his attention towards me and I snap into real awareness for the first time this morning, "Who do you think our competition is? I mean, I could make some guesses from the reapings last night, but you're gonna know how to sort them out better than we are," at the word 'we' he turns his head to look at Annie for just a moment. _Our_ competition, _we_. He was the worst type of district partner. The 'let's be allies because we share a hometown' tribute. The one who makes you laugh and makes you trust and stabs you in the back when the blood starts to run. My boy last year had been taken out by a girl like that.

"Of course you're going to want to look out for the careers," I'd flipped into mentor mode. "District 2 especially. If their kids don't become tributes, they become Peacekeepers. Every single kid in that district is especially trained to overpower you. And those who volunteered are most likely their most talented."

The tribute boy lets out a harsh laugh, "Watch out for the Careers? They'd be the first people I'd ally with."

It was my turn to laugh. This boy was so _arrogant_. "Ally? You'd be dead by day three."

The boy shook his head and stared at me with something akin to disbelief, "You have no idea what you've started, have you? Every boy wants the glory of the Famous Finnick Odair. District 4 is becoming a Career District. By next Games you'll have two volunteers at your feet, trained and ready to win these Games."

I didn't see that coming. Why would anyone want to live the way I do? _Because_, I tell myself, _they don't know about my love, they don't know about never being home. They don't know that I am a slave to the Capitol._

"You don't want to be like me," I look to Annie and for the first time since the justice building, our eyes meet, "I promise you. You don't want my life."

The table falls silent.

Not long later we are ushered back to our rooms to prepare for our arrival in the Capitol by a very perky Celia. Generally, as a mentor, a stylist or prep team would meet me there to make sure I was fitting to get off in the Capitol, but lately they had decided they wanted me to seem more 'real', more 'rough' to the women of the Capitol, so I was allowed to dress and prepare how I wished. And after changing, I sat waiting for this ride to be over.

So that the real ride could begin.


	6. One Act of Beauty

ANNIE'S POV

I sit in a lounging chair as I wait for my stylist to come in. After the last hours of poking and prodding by what they called my 'prep team' the down time was welcome. They'd done things to me here that I'd never even heard of. We shaved in District 4 but what the Capitol people called 'waxing' was so much more painful. I didn't understand what would have been wrong with just shaving. They'd straightened out my tangled hair with some sort of iron the way my mother always did before she curled it like she had for the Reaping. I felt so strange just sitting her with my usually thick curly hair straight and flowing on my shoulders.

I looked over my shoulder when I heard the click of the door. A tall man with dark skin enters the room, the door swinging shut behind him. He's of average build with wide shoulders you don't see much in District 4, and he's bald. He looks to be no more than mid 30s, but looks can be deceiving in the Capitol. He gives me a warm smile and I try to return it. The smiles that usually come so easily for me are tighter here. I know what Finnick has told me about the Capitol. Once you're in the Games, there's one thing they want from you: a show.

"Miss Cresta," his voice is warm and gentle, and he doesn't possess any of the atrocities so common here, "My name is Aeit. I'm going to be your stylist."

"So you're here to make me look pretty?" I ask. I already know the answer. He's here to get me sponsors. He's here to put his name on something famous.

He laughs warmly. He's the first person I'm starting to feel at home with in the Capitol. "You don't need any help with that baby doll," he smiles at me for a second before he stands, walking behind my chair and touching my hair, "Tell me about yourself, Annie."

"There's not a lot to tell."

"Everyone has a story," I find the rhythm of his fingers in my smooth hair calming and I let my eyes fall shut.

"I'm sure the one's here in the Capitol are much more interesting than mine," Finnick would tell me I was being self-depreciative. I still had to question why I was so much in his eyes, why I was important enough to be drawn into these Games at his expense. I didn't doubt that he loved me. I didn't understand why.

"Tell me what's on your mind right now. In this moment," Aeit encourages me.

I take a deep breath and pull the first thing that comes to mind, "I feel strange with my hair straight like this. It's not me. I want to get in the warm water of the ocean back home and feel my curls bounce back."

"That's a good start. I want to make your hair look like the waves in the ocean tonight. I want it to flow with your dress like the wind on the waves," His voice is warm and his fingers gentle in my hair. They can almost remind me of the feel of the locks flowing with the water back home.

"Why do you do this?" I ask impulsively.

I open my eyes and see him smiling in the mirror in front of me. "Because I'm good at it… and it pays well," he laughs half-heartedly and I attempt to join him, "I have no noble reason for doing this. Maybe I keep doing it because I'm inspired."

"How?" How could someone find inspiration in fixing someone up to look great for their death?

"My son, Cinna. He's 18 years old. He wants to do this too."

"But why?"

"He believes that by doing this, he can save a tribute's life."

I shake my head, "How is some make-up and a pretty dress going to affect who survives?"

"He believes he can influence the odds. 'It only takes one act of beauty to outshine a thousand acts of hate,' he says. When he watches his first tribute die, he'll understand, nothing can influence fate.

My mind drifts to Finnick as Aeit begins to do wonders with my hair. _It only takes one act of beauty to outshine a thousand acts of hate. _Is this why Finnick loves me? Is this why I'm beautiful? Am I the one thing that can outshine all the hate he's experienced? What am I…


	7. Stay Away

FINN POV

I sit alone in the viewing room watching the opening ceremony again. It'll play on a loop all night and I've lost count of how many times I've watched it now.

And there she is. Annie. The innocence is back in her eyes as she gives a child like smile an waves to a group of Capitol children as she passes. Her brown hair falls gracefully to her shoulders in waves that weave in and out of each other. As the lights of the Capitol streets hit it, it looks like the late sun reflecting off the water. The light breaks on her dress too; into a million little teardrops, just like the ocean back home, and the skirt seems to fall like a cresting wave, breaking over the edge of the chariot. She's never looked more beautiful.

Some people cheer as she passes, some fall silent in awe.

Her chariot passes through the door of the training center and the majesty of the ocean is lost until all 12 districts are circled inside the training center. The last thing I remember is a sparkle of gold in Annie's hair and a nearly invisible tear on her cheek before the Training Center door closes.

The next thing I know, Celia's above me, shaking me awake. I look around, feel the cold leather on my skin. I must have fallen asleep on the couch in the viewing room.

When I shuffle into the dining room, I'm in mentor mode again. I'm cold. My eyes meet Annie's for just a moment. It's all I can give myself. I wait until everyone is seated at the table to speak.

"Training begins today. Michael you'll be mentored by Mags. Annie you'll be with me. We'll meet you in your rooms after breakfast to discuss strategy. Are we clear?" They both mutter they're agreement, and I become very avidly focused on my food. I ache to glance at Annie. To look into her eyes and be able to see how she's holding up, but I know I can't allow myself that. Not here, where the Capitol is watching me so closely.

After breakfast I wait for Annie to leave the table for her room, and then Michael, before getting up and making my way to her room. This will be the first opportunity I've had to be alone with her since we boarded the train, but I have to remember that we won't really be alone. This is all a show by the Capitol to prove that they own me. I won't give them reason to test that.

I knock on the door and Annie opens it, beckoning me in. I begin to speak before she can get a word in, "You're going to have to pay a lot of attention in training Annie. You're smaller than a lot of them. You may be able to use that to your advantage. Make the others believe you're not a threat," I turn to her, she's taking this in, "It's important that you go in there and you learn everything you can."

"Finn, I know how to use a rope. I can make a good snare. Its not like I'm completely defenseless-"

"That's another thing: stay away from the rope. It's the one thing you really have going for you. You don't want to give it away. Save it for the Gamemakers." I tell her. She had to deceive the other. And it could be so simple. She looks so small, so innocent. If I can get her to play her cards right, she could win simply by laying low until the last moment. No one would see her as a threat.

"Finn-"

"Make sure you learn about fishing. You're a good swimmer, Annie. If you can set up a base near a body of water, it could work as a great defense."

"Finnick-"

"Camouflage, too. If you can lie low and-"

"Finnick, stop," she snaps.

I stop and look at her, really look at her face to face, for the first time since I left the justice building.

"What's happened to you? Its like… you're a completely different person here," I can see her eyes searching mine. I want to fall to my knees again, but I have to be strong for her now.

I turn away from here, "I don't know what you're talking about, Annie," I tell her, my voice taking on a hard edge.

She scots around the edge of my vision, trying to get me to look at her, "You've barely looked at me since we boarded that train, let alone talked to me. And now that we're finally alone, you can't manage to ask one word about how I'm feeling or tell me one thing about how your feeling. It's like you're keeping secrets again."

"I told you, Annie, I can't tell you anything."

"Just look at me," she demands, her hand on my cheek. I turn over my shoulder to looks at her. My eyes are forlorn now. "I can't do this without you, Finn."

I swallow hard. "But you have to, Annie." I shake my head, "They're watching me here, Annie. Every second. The only way I can help you… is to stay away."

She strokes my cheek gently and I can feel a tear playing in the corner of my eye, "But that doesn't mean you have to leave. Keep your mind with me, Finnick, your heart."

"My heart, Annie, will always be yours."


	8. The Interview

We sat in the viewing room, surrounding the television, anxiously awaiting the training scores. I'd been gnawing on my knuckles for so long now they were dry and raw. We were only the 4th district but I had been anxious long before the announcements began.

Annie had cried herself to sleep last night, and I had stayed with her. I feared the Capitol would punish me by giving her an unusually high training score. By making her a target. I knew I shouldn't have stayed. I knew I was putting us at risk, but I couldn't leave her. I'd made a promise to her before we'd left, to everything in my power to bring her home. _She wouldn't last long if she was falling apart_, I told myself.

The girl from District 3 appeared on the screen with a 10. I twirled the bracelet Annie had made me on my wrist, a constant reminder of why I had to keep a level head. This action had become a common habit these days. The boy from District 3 disappears and Annie's picture is on the screen. My hand clenches and still on my wrist.

7.

7. That's perfect. 7 is amazing. The Capitol must not have known. No of course they knew, but for some reason they didn't care.

I swallowed heavily, the lump of stress in my throat finally lessening.

After Michael got a 9, and we watched the other tributes go by, we dispersed to go to bed. Tomorrow would be the last day before the interviews. Tomorrow I would have Annie all to myself. I felt a small pang of happiness at this thought, but also knew that tomorrow was one day closer to sending Annie into the arena. There was no true comfort here.

I sit in the viewing room, waiting for Annie to finish up with Celia. I didn't imagine learning how to walk in heels and sit properly would take long with Annie. She once said when she was younger that swimming wasn't right for a woman of her_ station_. It was once place where Annie would fit in well with the capitol.

"Finn," I look up at the sound of her delicate voice. She gives me a small smile. She's in a flowy, flowered dress, very girlish, accentuating her seemingly infinite innocence. Her eyes dropped to my hands. At the sight of the red, cracking skin her face became concerned, "What did you do to your hands?" She asked, sitting down next to me on the couch and examining them.

"It's nothing, Annie." I pull my hands away from hers, turning the bracelet on my wrist. She's silent for moment, but I can tell by the way I see her look at me out of the corner of my eyes, something's clicked.

"The training scores… Look, Finn. I know I didn't rank very high, but we both knew I wasn't up to par with the rest of th-"

"No, Annie," I stop her, taking her hands and meeting her eyes, "No, you did perfectly. 7 is average. 7 is _safe_. It's low enough that most of them won't see you as a threat. Don't you see, Annie?"

She looked at me with confused eyes, "Then why…"

"I was afraid you'd score higher. That… the Capitol would rig your score because I stayed with you the other night; make you seem like a threat," I didn't know how anyone could see Annie as a threat, no matter how high she scored, but I also knew the type of dementia that enters a tributes mind when it comes to sparing their own life. Then again, maybe that's why the Capitol didn't bother. It would be too unrealistic, and the Capitol is _all about_ keeping up appearances. "Annie, everything, _everything_, up to this point has been perfect. Your dress in the opening ceremony, your training score. You look so.. innocent. No one in that arena will see you as a threat. You just have to keep up that appearance tonight. I know you're smart, Annie. Smarter than any of them. You just have to make them believe you're not."

She shakes her head, her curls bouncing, "How do I do that?"

"You don't change a thing. You go out there tomorrow night and you act sweet, and charming. Pretend you're the nine year old girl I saved from the ocean," I lean my forehead lightly against her, "After all, she hasn't changed much."

"District 4. Annie Cresta!" Caesar Flickerman calls out. I watch Annie make her way up to the front of the stage, ocean wave curls bouncing, frilly dress flowing. She doesn't look quite beautiful, she looks… cute. And girlish. When she reaches Caesar she has a smile that is all too familiar to me now. It's the "Capitol smile." It looks so much more fitting on her rosy cheeks, beneath her innocent eyes.

"Miss Annie," Caesar greets her, kissing her on the hand.

Annie blushes a little and giggles. Flawless. When Caesar stands up again, Annie curtsies, "Caesar."

Caesar laughs, "Well aren't you a sweetheart?" The crowd laughs with him, "Now Annie, you're 18, did you have a job back in District 4?"

Annie intertwined her hands at her waist and swayed just a little like a child who is very happy with themselves, "I take after my parents, making fishing nets for a living."

"Oh! Well we know you won't be going hungry in the arena!"

Annie giggles, "Hardly. I just make the nets, I don't use them." _Good job, Annie_, I think, _downgrade your talents. Show them you're not a_ _threat_.

Caesar laughs, smiling to the audience, "So modest isn't she? And_ Adorable_! That dress is just darling on you!"

"Thank you," Annie curtsies again.

"Why don't you twirl for us, sweetheart?"

Annie obeys, giggling. As she turns the dress flares out around her, white, pure, fading into a light teal-blue, sequins glittering around the hem. She holds her arms out and leans her head back. When she stops, its slow and graceful, her arms swinging at her sides.

"Adorable," Caesar says again, and the crowd laughs. He turns back to Annie, picking the interview back up, "Like I said before, you're 18," Annie nods, "This was your last year in the reaping. Were you surprised to be drawn?"

Here is where Annie faltered. She'd always been afraid, ever since I was drawn. It made her realize her own vulnerability. She looked to me in the audience. I didn't do anything. There was nothing I could do to help her. She could only be honest.

Annie's eyes filled with a bittersweet childlike fear, her voice sounded small, "No. My best friend was reaped for the Hunger Games a few years back. I've known since then that… no one is safe."

The crowd was silent, awe struck by her deep words in her childlike voice.

The buzzer went off, breaking the silence. With another kiss on the hand and another curtsy, Annie returned to her seat.

She was right. No one was safe, but some were less safe than others, no matter where they came from.


	9. Let the Games Begin

This is it. Annie will leave for the arena today. In just a matter of minutes, they will take her away from me and I may never hold her again.

"What are you think, Finnick?" She asks me, sitting by my side on her bed. "Talk to me."

I shake my head, licking my lips as I find the words, "They've stolen you from me Annie."

"What are you talking about? I'm still here, Fin-"

"No, Annie. They've taken everything that matters, and… after today, I may never look into your eyes again, never hold you," I bit the inside of my cheek, trying to suppress my anger. It wasn't intended for her, and I would not waste my last precious moments this way. "What are you going to do once you get to the arena?" I ask, stepping into mentor mode.

"Run from the Cornucopia the second the gong sounds."

"Good. You run, Annie. Don't look back, don't slow down. Find the furthest deep body of water from the Cornucopia you can and set up a camp there. Even if there's rope or a backpack at your feet, don't go for it. You don't need capitol rope. You can make it from things you'll find in the arena. If anyone tries to attack you, you flee into the water and hope to go they can't swim well."

"Finn," she says softly. "Finn, look at me." She puts her hand on my cheek and I turn to in her direction, still looking down. When she doesn't say anything I look up. "I promise I will come out, Finn."

I searched her eyes, feeling the sincerity in my heart. _Annie Cresta doesn't make promises that she does not intend to keep. _I lean in and kiss her gently, and I feel home.

"Come home to me," I whisper, my forehead against her, my eyes closed.

"I promise."

I'm seeing the map of the arena for the first time on the monitors now. The tributes will enter in 15 minutes, we have this time to survey the arena and see how we can use it to help our tributes. The arena is mostly rocky, mountainous, but bare, although not bare enough to make the games boring. There was a large lake 3 maybe 4 miles out from the Cornucopia, a river flowed into it from some place outside the arena, controlled by a large stone damn, and a small creek trickled out. I could tell from the camera that focused on the lake there were fish in it. This is where Annie would set up camp.

All of the monitors in the room change, the six monitors in front of each mentor splitting the image of their tributes plate between them. Annie will rise up on mine any second now. I hold my breath as I see her rise. Her face is blank, determined. She looks focused on the Cornucopia, almost like she might bolt for it the second the gong sounds, but I know her eyes better. Once the timer goes off, she'll step backward off the plate and slip out before anyone notices she's attempted to go. There's not a bow in the loot. This makes her even safer.

"10, 9, 8…" The announcer speaks. Annie holds her stance, but her eyes flit to her right, she sees the creek. She'll follow it. "4, 3, 2, 1…" The gong sounds.

She does just exactly as I expected her too. She steps backwards and turns quickly, dashing for the tree line. Other tributes who are planning to run from the Cornucopia try to grab the items nearest to them, and Annie is already ahead, by the time 3 other tributes turn to run, Annie is in the trees, going in just deep enough to not be seen as she begins to circle towards the creek.

One of the tributes who attempted to flee is speared in the back. Michael, who was nearby, pulls the spear from his back and takes the backpack clenched against his chest and breaks for the forest as the original owner of the spear barrels towards him, but Michael is fast and seconds after he's entered the trees, a career has landed a knife in the girl's back.

They're both out safe.

I watch as Annie races against the sun to make some semblance of a camp with so little supplies. She does manage to make some good rope out of small pliable branches and strings of fresh bark. She manages to make a small net in just over 2 hours; small but large enough to fish. She wades out into the lake and after about an hour of trying has two fish, which I had to admit was better than I would have guessed for her first day.

She gathers sticks and manages to make a small fire before the sun sets. As soon as the fire has swelled she stomps it out and uses the burning embers to cook her food. _Good girl_, I think to myself.

She eats and finds a crevice between two rocks that most men wouldn't be able to fit into. She lays as comfortably as she can in the tight space, and she is asleep for the night.

The next morning she works on making a spear she finds a sturdy fallen branch and a sharp stone and uses more fresh tree bark as rope. Its crude but it's better than nothing. The she sets to work making rope again. It amazes me how deft she is with the bare materials. By about 1 in the afternoon she has made a decent length of rope and transformed it into a rather large net.

By 3 she's turned it into a snare at the most convenient path to her camp. She hunts again and eats and the second day had gone by uneventfully. The faces go by in the sky. 3 more are dead today. There are 11 left.

Day 3. Annie has managed to set up two smaller snares and hunts for lunch. She's sitting down to eat, but there's a disturbance in the trees around her. Annie freezes, listening to find the source of the sound. Laying aside the food, she picks up her makeshift spear and walks slowly in the direction of the sound.

There's a snap in the trees and Annie runs towards it. A tribute hangs above her head in one of her snares. Her breath is heavy, her hair stuck to her face from the sweat of working so much. The tribute calls out as Annie raises her spear. She's prepared to throw it but her hand falters. I see it in her eyes. She can't do this. There's too much purity in her heart. She can't kill him.

But I can see what she can't. There is another tribute only yards away in the trees, he's running at the sound of the others screams. She'll have to kill one of them if she wants to survive.

The other tribute breaks into the area and Annie gasps. He sees his ally in the tree and looks to Annie. He rushes her, knife in hand. As he goes in on her she blocks his knife with the spear. He swings again and she ducks, coming around his back as he stumbles forward. She plunges the spear at him, but her aim isn't very good. It sticks in his arm and he yells out. Annie lets go of the spear and it falls to the ground, twisting in his wound and making it worse.

After the Tribute gets over the pain, fury clouds his eyes, he's charging Annie again. She ducks again, but he turns as she pops up again, grabbing her from behind. My breath catches in my throat as he holds the knife to Annie's throat.

He leans to whisper in her ear and my skin crawls as if it were his breath on my ear. I wanted to tear him apart. I wanted to be in the arena to take his hands off her.

"I guess you're not quite Panem's Sweetheart afterall."

My body rocked with rage. This could be it. 3 days in and I'm about to lose her. I stand and turn away from the screen. I won't watch this.

"Wait," Mags says blankly. I turn back for a moment. I don't want to stay for this.

But then the camera angle expands. Michael is standing behind the tribute with a knife to his throat, "Get your hands off of her," he growls menacingly.

"Not a chance," the tribute growls through strained teeth. He presses the knife to Annie's throat, but before he can break skin, he is slumping to the ground his chest covered in the red flowing from his throats.

Annie keels over, choking and crying, falling to her knees. For the first time since I held her in the training center, all of her strength is gone. She is sobbing on the arena floor.

Michael, knife wiped and sheathed crouches down next to her, putting a hand softly on her back. She cringes away from it, but looks at him. "You're ok now, Annie."

She was frozen for a moment before she fell into his chest, body rocked with a new round of sobs.

I wouldn't watch anymore. I stalked out of the room and into the hallway. I leaned my forearms against the wall to support me as I felt hot tears prick at the edges of my own eyes.

It was too close. I owed Michael everything now. Although he most likely wouldn't be around to collect.

Annie's days in the arena flashed through my mind. Her running, her deft fingers weaving elegant knots, her hair glistening as she took a short swim in the lake, her body trembling with tears. I wished that she could hear me, that I could give some semblance of assurance that I was out here for her, that I could tell her the words that were killing me inside.

"I love you, Annie."


	10. Annie the Victor

I stand in Snow's office, flanked on either side by Capitol Peacekeepers. I glare at him as I try to control my breath and he smiles back at me with his sinister smile. He already knows why I'm here.

"You may leave, boys," He says, waving off the Peacekeepers. My chest rises and falls with another heavy breath. "My dear, Finnick. What brings you to me?"

"You know very well why I'm here," My voice is dark but I force myself not to bark at him.

His sickening smile widens, "Ah yes, Miss Annie, is it?" He says her name with a tone of endearment that makes my stomach churn. "Sweet one, isn't she? It's a shame she got pulled into the Games."

"I get the lesson okay? You don't just say _no_ to the Capitol-" I spit, trying to restrain myself from raising my voice when he cuts me off.

"Oh but it is so much more than that, boy," He sneers. I can see what he doesn't say in his eyes. _We OWN you_, they say. _We control everything. What you do, who you love. You are a product of the Capitol, and you shall behave as such or be subject to Capitol punishment._

I take a deep breath, looking away as I try to control the rage boiling in my chest. I turn back meeting his eyes that make my stomach roll, "I will do anything. Anything you want from me. Anyone. I will do it," I drop to my knees, swallowing hard, trying to keep the look of twisted pain from my face, "I will do whatever it takes. Just promise me that she will come out of there."

"The victor of these games is out of my control."

"I know very well you have control over that. There isn't a single thing in the arena you can't control. I am telling you, I will bow down to you. I will do anything, anyone," I choked on the word knowing the implications, "Just bring her out of this alive."

"You will have to do better than that Mr. Odair," Snow glared at me. Nothing was vever good enough for him.

I swallowed again, rising to my feet, "I know you've been tryingto set me up with the head Gamemaker for months." I look down, disgraced at what I'm suggesting I stoop to.

Snow perks, "What are you suggesting?"

I let out a shaky breath, "You know what. I take the client, she lives."

There is a long silence and I look up at Snow's sneer. "You, Mr. Odair, have made a very wise decision.

DAY 12

I walk into the monitoring room, rubbing my temples. I had a raging headache, but I didn't want to order around the Avoxes. It made me feel too much like on of the Capitol snobs.

"You alright?" Johanna asked, giving me a concerned look.

I gave her a half-hearted empty laugh, "Long night."

She nodded without another word. She understood. Many victors did, but many of the older ones had forgotten.

I sit down in front of my station, watching Michael and Annie at the lakeside.

Michael and Annie had moved up the shore of the lake, closer to the damn, where there was a more discreet outcropping of rock and more trees surrounding it.

Thank to Michael's spear and knife and Annie's nets, both ate better. As much as I feared the time when he would stab her in the back, I was grateful for him keeping her safe.

There were 6 tributes left. Three careers, Annie and Michael, and one tribute that hid deep in the forests as well.

"Here," Michael grunted as he sat, holding out cooked fish to Annie. She smiled at him, and took the fish. She was better since the battle nearly two weeks ago, but she still wasn't the same. Her smiles were sadder, her determination lessened somehow. I could see in her eyes how she clung to the small bout of safety Michael provided her with.

Annie suddenly stiffened, like and animal that senses something isn't right. She touched Michaels arm and he froze too.

There was a rustling in the trees before they stepped out. The three careers. One wielded a club of sorts, and the other two wielded knives. Annie's eyes glazed over with fear. They were surrounded.

Michael stood slowly, unsheathing his knife and spinning it to hold it at the ready. Annie curled into a tight ball and the ground.

"Come on, _run_, Annie," I whisper at the screen. "Go to the lake. _Swim_."

The career with the club lunges at Michael. Michael ducks, spinning out under him, and the weight of the heavy club throws the career off balance. Michael takes his moment of clumsiness to bury his knife deep between the career's shoulder blades, right on the spine. His back arches and blood spills from his mouth before he falls to the ground.

The one girl lets out a half anguished, half furious cry and barrels towards Michael.

"Run Annie," I whisper again.

Something seems to click in her eyes. She looks up at Michael and the Career, both distracted, and the other career is running towards them.

Annie stands and bolts for the water. She's three steps away, now two… Her feet splash into the water, but just as she prepares to dive in, the bulky male Career wraps his arms around her waist.

"_No_," I seethe.

He pulls her back hard, throwing her against the shore. She rolls a few times, closer to the fight between Michael and the girl, getting scraped up on the rock. The Career comes to stand over Annie, and catches Michael's eye. He takes an opportunity to give a hard kick to the Careers back and he falls forward to one side of Annie, gasping for air.

Michael quickly turns back to the girl, making on sleek slit along her throat, but its sufficient. He isn't quick enough, though, The male is back on his feet, brandishing his knife.

I watch the screen as Michael sees him at the last second and tries to duck a swing of the career's knife.

He's too late.

My breath catches in my chest, a tight aching feeling, as I watch the knife take his head cleanly off.

Annie watches too. And she's left unprotected. I hear a squeal from her as she crouches on the ground and suddenly everything seems very surreal. Almost as if I'm watching in slow motion as Michael's body falls to the floor. The Career's shoulders rise with a deep, bloodthirsty breath. When he turns to face the camera, to face Annie, he's calm, but his eyes are focused. He takes two steps towards Annie.

Her face is blank. She doesn't look at the career. She doesn't really look at anything. Her knees curled to her chest, her hands covering her ears, her chin quivers ever so slightly.

I close my eyes. I won't watch this. I won't watch her die. I take a deep breath as I wait, wait for the Capitol to keep up their end of the bargain. Wait for the sound that will take everything from me.

And then I hear another sound, the distinct creak of stone cracking. My eyes fly open just in time to see the damn in the arena crumble, and water fill the screen.

"Annie!" I yell, leaping for the monitors as if there's something I can do for her now.

There's nothing I can do for her now. I grit my teeth and after a shaky breath, storm out of the monitor room.

It is thirty seconds before I am crashing through the doors of the Gamemakers' room. President Snow is here.

"You son of a bitch!" I yell, pointing as I crash towards him, "This is how you guarantee she stays alive? They're all dead! You're lucky if you get a victor."

He gives me that sickening smile as I stand before him, shoulders rising and falling with my furious breaths. His smile makes my stomach turn. I want to rip his throat out. "My dear Finnick. You've held up your end of the bargain, and we've held up ours," Seneca Care smiles over his shoulder and bile rises in my throat. Snow's smile widens and I swear I can see the blood I smell on him seeping between his teeth, "I recall you telling me once that she is an excellent swimmer."

The heat rises in my chest as I prepare to barrel forward again, "You-"

"I'd choose your words carefully Mr. Odair," I freeze in my path, swallowing back the bile in my throat. One of the Gamemakers has a hand on me, "Now If I were you, I'd get back to the monitors. See if you can scrape up enough money to send your girl a raft."

I clench my teeth so hard it hurts. I throw off the hand of the Gamemaker and exit, making my way back to the monitoring room.

When I walk in, Mags' eyes are fixed on a monitor. Annie is on it. She's swimming. Every few seconds a rush of water will come down the hill and take her under. Each time I hold my breath until she surfaces. I find myself instructing her in my head, trying to telepathically force her to remember everything I've taught her. _Right, left, breath, duck your head, keep your bearings. Very good. Left, right, breath, kick, right, left, breath…_

A canon goes off. I let out a breath, but it catches as another wave takes Annie under. When the wave recedes, Annie is clinging to the top of a tree, hugging herself to it with all the might in her too small arms. _Just hold on, Annie. _I think to her, _Two more canons. Hold on, Annie._

Another wave hits her back and the sharp tree branch scrapes her cheek.

Another canon fires.

The faintest ghost of a smile graces my lips, and a shaky breath of excitement fills my chest.

"Come on, Annie," I whisper, "Hold on. One more just _hold on_."

Something overtakes her eyes, a sudden recognition. She lets out a piercing scream as another wave overtakes her.

The last canon fires.


	11. The worst scars will fade

I watch through the window to the infirmary as Annie thrashes, being held back by the guards.

"No, no!" She screams, eyes closed, attempting to cover her eyes with the hands bound by the guards. "No, no, no. Help, no, no…"

She seems to calm for a moment. Not calm, no… subside, give in, a tear streaming down her face before she lets out an earsplitting scream, "Michael!" She manages to push off the doctors and curls into a ball on her hospital bed, shaking uncontrollably and covering her ears.

A doctor reaches for her again, a syringe with what I can only guess is a sedative in his hand, and just as she lets out another scream and cringes away, I storm through the door.

"That's enough!" I boom, "Everyone out!"

"Mr. Odair-"

"Are you deaf? I said _out_!" The doctors, nurses and guards scramble to exit, and in moments it is just me alone with a violently shaking Annie.

I sit down next to her on the bed, slowly, almost not moving at all so as not to startle her with the shift of my weight onto the mattress.

"Annie," I whisper softly. "Annie, its Finnick. Look at me." Her eyes open a sliver but I feel as if she doesn't see me. My heart breaks anyway. I lift my hand to touch the back of hers, to stroke it softly.

"No," She snaps, trying to tear her hand away, to hit me, but I lock my fingers tight around her wrist.

"Annie, it's just me. You're safe."

She shakes her head and starts crying again, but there is some sort of clarity in her eyes, "Don't hurt me, please. I promised. I promised. I have to go _home_. Please. I promised, I promised…"

"Annie, you're safe. The Games are over, Annie-"

The clarity is gone, clouded over as clearly as the milky cover of a blind man. She's screaming so shrilly my ears feel like they're going to crack. I cover them quickly. Annie begins thrashing on the bed, hitting me, she claws her nails down the side of my face and I can feel her break skin. She hits her hand on the metal railing at the head of the bed and there's a sickening crack. The doors to the room burst open and orderlies come in with restraints, the doctor has the syringe.

"Mr. Odair, you need to leave now," the doctor demands.

"No," I snap back.

"Yes. You need to go get that cleaned up. Leave now before I have the Peacekeepers drag you out.

A small nurse lays her hand on my arms but I throw it off. With one last glance at the thrashing screaming Annie, and a heavy breath, I rush out of the infirmary.

"I can't believe this!" I yell, spinning around in my room. Mags sits calmly on the sofa by the wall. Her 'sagely' calm aggravates me, "I did everything! I did _everything_ they told me! I did everything in my power to bring her out of that arena, and I still lost her!"

"You haven't lost her," Mags says slowly.

"Yes I have!" I growl back, "She may be alive. She may be a _Victor_. But the Annie I knew might as well be dead. _She is gone!_" I pick up a fancy class cup from my nightstand and hurl it at the wall. It shatters, spattering the floor with glittering pieces of hazardous fake crystal. I weave my hands so tight in my hair that it hurts and I scream.

"Finnick, sit," Mags tells me softly.

I shake my head and growl, throwing my arm hard against the nearest wall.

"Finnick, stop acting childish," She demands. Her voice taking charge for one of the first times since I'd met her. "You are smarter than that. No_ sit_, and listen."

I let out a shaky breath, but move to sit next to her on the couch. The second I sink down I can feel the fury flood out of me, replaced by a heavy deep rooted ache.

"She's never going to be the same, Finnick," Mags starts softly. I knew the words were true, but I recoiled from them, my mind trying to snap back into a dark corner. Or maybe more so the light of the sun reflecting on sand before either of us had ever entered the Hunger Games. "All of us who come out of the arena leave with wounds, on our bodies, our minds, our hearts," I braced my elbows on my knees, hands clasped. No one could know that better than me. I was the youngest one to live. I'd had my childhood stolen from me by a killing hand and raging nightmares that still kept me up, even in the circle of Annie's arms…

"The important thing to remember," she went on, "Is that even the worst scars will fade. Don't give up," Her words rang in my mind, stinging behind my eyelids, "Not now when she needs you the most." The tears pushed at the back of my eyes, forcing their way into my vision. I wavered for a moment, before collapsing my head into Mags' lap. I tried to say something but only strangled gasps came out. Her feather light wrinkled hands stroked my hair and she shushed me lightly. I pushed my face and my cheeks into the warmth of her, too hot tears staining my face, until I felt the world fade…


	12. I know you're in there

Unlike with most Victors, there is no huge celebration when Annie returns home. We get off the train nearing twilight and I guide her, my hands placed ever so lightly on her shoulders, to her house. When I get there the door is open, the screen unlocked. I push it open slowly and guide Annie inside.

"Stay here," I whisper in her ear, even though I know she won't move, as I go to set down a bag of her gifts from the Capitol, the interview dress, a copy of the highlights reel from the Games, and a few other things given to her by the pitying members of her prep team, by the stairs.

"Annie!" I hear a shriek and look up to see Mrs. Cresta come through the back door that leads into the shop. Annie tenses as her mother's arms wrap around her.

I lurch towards them, arm outstretched, "I wouldn't do that-"

It's too late. Annie is rocking side to side, hands over her ears, screaming.

Her mother backs away, her expression frightened. I rush to put my hands on Annie's wrists, "Annie. Annie, look at me. You're home. You're safe. Annie."

"No, no. Let me go. No," She tries to hit me away feebly, and I hold her wrists tighter. She lets out and earsplitting scream, dropping to her knees, trying to pull her hands to her ears again.

I crouch down next to her and wait for the screaming to subside, until she's just whimpering, rocking back and forth onto her heals. I sigh and put my hands gently on her elbows. "Come on, Annie," I whisper so soft it could have as easily been another sigh than actual words. I pull her up carefully to her feet, and place my hands on her shoulders again.

I guide her up the stairs and into her bedroom. The second her knees hit the side of the bed, she falls onto it, curling into a ball. I pull a blanket up over her even though its warm and humid. I sit carefully on the side of the bed and wait until the shivering subsides and her breath grows even with the peace of sleep.

I make my way out of the room, glancing back at Annie once more as she pulls herself tighter in the throes of a nightmare. I swallow heavily and make my way downstairs.

Mrs. Cresta is still there, looking shocked. I rake my hands through my hair and walk over to her.

She shakes her head, "You… You said she wasn't doing well, but…"

I nodded and my jaw tightened, "Believe it or not, she's doing better."

"That's better!" She demands, throwing an arm out in the direction of where Annie had had her fit on the floor.

I sighed. There were no words for what had happened to her daughter, for what _I_ had done to her daughter, "She's not the same, Mary. She may never be," I take a deep breath, "The Capitol has her on some sort of medication. It's supposed to help her. They say if the episodes subside they'll consider taking her off-"

"Medication? The Capitol? How are they supposed to help her?" Mary's voice sounds on the edge of tears.

I look away from her, "It's more of choosing your battles. When the medication is worn off, or she refuses to take it… She's like this. Anything sets her off. But when she's on it…" I let out a breath and it shakes, "It's like she's not there at all. You could grip her shoulders and look her straight in the eyes and she wouldn't see you."

Mrs. Cresta lets out a sob, her hand over her mouth.

I use all my strength to look her straight in the eyes, "I think I can help her. I know she's in there somewhere… trapped in the games. I can help her if you'll let me."

She nods carefully, taking her hand from her mouth, "Whatever it takes."

I walk onto the beach in the mid afternoon, after work, and she's there. I'd almost feared she wouldn't be, but there she is, here hair free on her shoulders, her arms wrapped loosely around her knees. I stop for a moment just to stare at her, back here where she belongs.

After I break through the cloud of nostalgia from having done this a thousand times, I walk down to where she is on the beach and lower myself next to her.

"Hey Annie," I say softly as I settle into the sand. I twirl the small yellow flower I have between my fingers before gently pushing a lock of her hair aside and nestling the flower above her ear. She doesn't flinch, she doesn't move. Her eyes stay trained on the endless ocean.

I sigh, staring at her, willing her to look at me, to speak to me, but nothing comes. "I know you're in there," I tell her in a shaky voice, "because you promised me once… So I'm just gonna wait, until you come out." Come out of the arena, out of the Games, come _home_. I let the words sit between us for a moment, hoping beyond any true belief that she'll say something, but nothing comes.

With another sigh I slide my knapsack from my shoulder and pull a knot of rope from it, glancing out at the ocean as I untangle it.

The days pass like this. Every day, midafternoon, Annie is waiting for me on the beach.

"Hey, Annie," I whisper, sliding a red flower into her hair, a yellow, a white… lengths of rope, my fingers working knots, tying, tying, chapped, rope burned hands, tying, tying…

I slide into the sand next to her on a day in late July. I slide a purple flower into her hair, shucking my backpack, but when I look back at her, she's tense and shivering in the cool breeze coming off the ocean. I shrug off my denim shirt, laying it on her shoulders, knowing in the back of my mind it won't help much, but knowing that anything I can do… something of it has to make a difference.

I work, watching the sun set over the water. As the sun sinks lower into the water and finally vanishes, Annie begins to doze off. When she rolls over onto her side and curls up in the sand, eyes closed, breaths even I pack up.

I lift her carefully from the sand so as not to wake her and begin the short journey back to her house. I walk inside and up the stairs, laying her carefully in her bed. On the side table sits a candle, providing a soft glow in the darkness, and a vase. There is a flower for every day since she came home. Today there will be 54.

After I pull up her blanket, I slip the purple flowers from her hair and snuggle them between the others in the vase, some wilted and dry, some fresh and soft. I lean over to stroke her cheek one last time, choking back months' worth of tears, before I leave her room quietly.

When I get downstairs, before I slip out the back door, I see Mrs. Cresta standing in the back room, her arms wrapped around herself, glaring at the back door.

I nod to her in the dim silvery light filtering in from the moon outside, "Mary."

"Finnick," She says bluntly. I let my hand fall from the door. With a sigh her stance breaks and she takes a few steps closer to me, "Is she any better?" I swallow, not wanting to have to speak the answer she already knows. She shakes her head and laughs humorlessly. "What is the point, Finnick?"

"What do you mean?"

She scoffs again, licking her upper lip, "I wake her up every day, dress her, walk her down to that beach. You bring her back asleep, a flower in her hair… And all for what? For her to wake up only hours later thrashing with nightmares? To be knocked back out by some magic pills from the Capitol? What's the point, Finnick? Nothing is going to change."

"Its only been two months-" I rush to defend, but Mrs. Cresta stops me short.

"_Two months_, Finnick? Two months and nothing has changed. You said you could help her," Her tone sounded accusing. As it should. It's my fault Annie's like this.

"I can help her. I just… I need more time," I clench my eyes closed, "Her mind just hasn't caught up with her body. She still thinks she's in the Games. She just has to find her way out—"

"And how long could that take, Finnick? More months? Years?"

"I don't know!" I snapped. I took a deep breath trying to calm myself. "I know she's in there somewhere. I have to believe she's in there," I let one of the crystalline tears I'd been holding back so long slip down my cheek, "I have to believe she'll keep her promise. She has to come home."

Mary went silent now. She only nodded and made her way upstairs. I closed my eyes and let the tears run their course. When they'd cleared enough for me to see, I picked up my pack and went out the back door, I flipped open the top flap and looked in to see a rolls of bread, wrapped tightly and tucked in amongst the rope, just like every night.

The days passed, turning into weeks, weeks into months. The flower vase got full so I brought a basket to put the wilted ones in beside the table. As the time went on, the days grew longer, Annie staying awake well into the star lit night. I would gather wood to make fires and work on my net over the firelight. The net had long since outgrown the bag and I hauled it in on my shoulder each night.

Another day, another week, more fires, less sleep before the morning sun woke me for work. 183 days now…

The sun was setting low over the horizon as I put another chunk of wood on the fire. I slid back into the sand at Annie's side, and began work with the rope, the feeling of it sliding between my fingers rhythmic and familiar.

When A noise came, soft and quiet like a child's, I had to take a beat before I was certain I'd heard anything, and then my heart crumpled.

"Hey, Finn."


	13. I'm Home

"The Victory Tour!" I thunder. The president sits opposite me at one of the glamorous polished tables of the Capitol.

He sneered and spoke in what I supposed was his 'cheerful' voice, "Of course! Every Victor deserves the chance to greet their fellow districts. Offer their condolences."

"Are you insane?" I boom, standing from my chair, hands planted on the table, "Annie spoke for the first time in six months, three days ago!"

"But she did speak?" He inquired. My jaw tightened and I didn't reply, "Then she is doing better. You'd mentioned the episodes had reduced-"

"With a severe amount of the drugs you've been feeding her for the past several months! Her doses are three time higher than when she left the Capitol!" I flung my arm out, gesturing to the flamboyant expanse of the Capitol outside the large glass wall of the dining room.

Snow stood now, leaning over the small table to be level with my face, "You have experience the consequences of your defiance in the past. I wouldn't think you would care to test them again."

I held my gaze with his, breathing heavily, before I broke away, running my hand through my hair that had grown a little too long, and muttering under my breath, "_Damnit!_" I took several deep breaths, banging my fist against a small side table, before bracing my arms on the back of my chair, leaning over, gripping the chair back white-knuckled. "I can't guarantee she'll be able to speak. I can't guarantee she'll even be able to go in front of people."

"Can you control her?" Snow asked in a dark, deep voice. I looked up to meet his eyes once more, my lips a tight line, and nodded. Snow smiled menacingly, and clapped me on the shoulder as he passed me, "Very well. We depart in two days."

Annie sat on her bed rigidly, her packed duffle bag next to her on her perfectly smooth duvet. She stared at me, not quite blankly, but almost as if she could see through me thooguh she knew I was there.

"Annie? Annie," I waited for her to blink, to know she was paying attention, "Listen, Annie. I need you to repeat after me. Can you do that?" I spoke slowly and she blinked again, what had become her version of meek understanding over the past few days. I began to speak to her the words I'd been attempting to brand into her mind for the last two days, "My name is Annie Cresta."

"My… My name is A-Annie," she repeated in a slow, monotone voice.

"My name is Annie Cresta," I repeated again. She mumbled something low on her voice. _Annie Cresta_. "I am from Disctrict 4." I went on.

"I'm from District 4," She repeated back quietly.

I stroked her cheek carefully, holding her soft skin in my palm, "And I am the victor of the 70th Hunger Games." She hesitated before responding this time, her face contorting as if the words didn't make sense to her. "And I am the victor-" I began to repeat.

"Of the 70th Hunger Games," She whispered back. A sudden pool of clarity seemed to for in her eyes, like a tide pool left behind in the sand at low tide, undisturbed by waves and chaos. "My name is Annie Cresta… I am from District 4… And I am… the victor of the 70th Hunger Games."

I smiled, stroking her cheek fervently, a noise coming out of my throat somewhere between a laugh and a sob. "Yes, Annie. You say that, just say that, and I promise they will let you go. Three little things and they'll let you go."

But her eyes were blank again, void of understanding or emotion.

We stood on a stage in front of the Justice Building of District 12. I held Annie's hand firmly as the Mayor spoke. When he introduced Annie, I slowly let go of her hand and whispered in her ear, "Remember what I told you."

Annie walked slowly towards the microphone at the center front of the stage, one of Aeit's dresses flowing around her ankles. She looks more like a little girl now than ever. More than when she came to see me after my reaping, more than when I had dragged her soaking wet out of the ocean, now with her flowy skirt and one of my flowers tucked in her hair, she looked younger even than when I'd met her, small and afraid.

Annie came up to the microphone and for what felt to be a long period of time, there was only silence. Then her voice came softly.

"M-my name is A-Annie Cresta. I am from District 4. And I… I am the victor of th-the 70th Hunger Games." She bowed her head before the crowd and there was only silence, the profound air of pity rich in the atmosphere.

Every District greeted us this way. The same speeches, the same expressions of sympathy, the same words, although every District they became a little stronger in her voice.

Most of the day Annie would sit in a chair in the dining room or in her quarters, set in front of a window so she could watch the land pass by. When she would grow tired and give in to sleep as she was so accustomed to back home, I would carry her to her bed. Some nights she would wake and grab my hand, asking me with her eyes to stay, and I would.

Yes every city was the same, with Annie adorned in one of Aeit's dresses, each one making her look more like a little girl, until alas we made it to the Capitol. Here people showered Annie with gifts. Annie managed a smile when one woman spoke to her about flowers and the lilies on the water she'd seen from District 4 on TV once.

Everything felt blurred together by color a kindliness, then suddenly dulled by the dark night sky as we boarded the train back home, like a wave crashing over you to drag you back to the sand at the bottom, water threatening to drown you. Only once you realize the water has stolen your oxygen, you decide it is better to drown than be deceived by the mirage.

She speaks just like she has in very other district, empty trained words. "My name is Annie Cresta. I am from District 4… And I am the victor of the 70th Hunger Games." Her voice is strong now, little hesitation, but still like 11 other districts, there is silence over the crowd. Until she speaks again, "Finn." Her voice is light and frail. My head snaps up in surprise at her voice, and she looks at me with the quivering chin of a child who is afraid. When she speaks, her words phrases are broken, like she forgets part way through that she was speaking at all. "Annie… Cresta doesn… doesn't make promises… that she… doesn't in… _intend_, to keep." Silence is thick in the air, but I know she isn't done. My breath is shaky and love surges through my veins as I feel tears prick at the back of my eyes.

"I'm home, Finn."

5 YEARS LATER

Annie hears a light knock on her apartment door in District 13. She stopped humming to herself and wiped her hands on a kitchen towel.

At first when she opened the door to see Johanna, she smiled, but the look of her deep set eyes, and strained mouth, her breathing almost too controlled… Johanna looked many years older and the smile dropped from Annie's face.

"What's happened?" She asks, her hand dropping from the door.

Johanna takes a step forward, "Annie…" her voice is measured, "Annie, we all knew that for the sake of freedom…" Johanna paused, calculating her words. Annie took two steps back, sitting on the edge of the white sheeted bed. "…lives would be lost." Johanna kneeled in front of Annie, who had her hand over her mouth and was trying to contain tears. "The price is higher for some than others, but all have fought with honor. No one died today without a purpose."

Annie's eyes had gone cold and empty, reminiscent of her mind locked in the arena years before. Her body shifted into that safe position that held her together_. As long as I am in one piece_, she'd always told herself, _no one can tear me apart._

Her mind flashed with images of Finnick. His arms wrapped around her as she heaved up salt water, his laugh as he tosses a handful of seaweed at her, his look of concern only for her, not for himself, after he was reaped for the 65th Hunger Games, the feel of his soaked chest against her cheek as he hugged her after their first 'swimming lesson', the first brush of his lips on hers, him brushing aside her hair as she lay in his bed, him holding her hand as she tried to bury the fear the shaking of the train against tracks instilled in her…

"Annie. Annie, Ann-Annie," The voice bounced around the inside of her head, but didn't really register. It reminded her of those months on the beach of Finnick saying the same thing every day. _Hey Annie._ But this voice was too high pitched, to urgent.

Annie sat on her bed, her arms wrapped tightly around her knees, but she was prevented from fully curling in on herself by the small bump that had begun to form on her stomach.

END


End file.
